Uh oh. Whoops. Hmm.
With thanks to The French Laundry, who had this menu sometime in 2010 and so is probably hopelessly out of vogue in culinary fashion but had juuust the right amount of language inaccessible to poor suburban moms like me and Imogen. 😀
I’ll be at PAX this weekend, freshly blue-dyed and kicking around with Kev. If you see me, say hi!!
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TRANSCRIPT
Panel 1 (Imogen, offering Alex a menu)
Imogen: Do you need a…?
Alex: Oh, no, I already know what I’m getting.
Panel 2 (A close-up of an elegant menu with a generous smattering of French culinary terms)
Alex, off-panel: Get whatever you want; I’ve got it.
Imogen, off-panel: There are… no prices?
Alex, off-panel: Don’t worry about it.
Panel 3 (Kinsey, head resting on her chin as she grins)
Kinsey: Alex dated the head chef. She has privileges.
Panel 4 (Alex, grimacing)
Alex: Yeah… probably not anymore…
Panel 5 (Caleb, looking concerned)
Caleb: Are you and Eris still not talking?
Panel 6 (Imogen, also looking concerned)
Alex, off-panel: Not… exactly.
Panel 7 (A close up of Alex, looking spooked)
Friend, off-panel: Speak of the devil.
Ohhhh something’s cooking and it’s not the food.
And I’m hoping that things will be amicable between Alex and Eris (unless I’m digging that Eris is supposed to reference the goddess of chaos/discord, which will mean WHOOPS)
Of what I can see of the menu, I’ll have the cauliflower florets please!
Tag yourself, I’m “jingle bell peppers”
🙁 Alex is trying so hard to show off her cool friends and lifestyle for Imogen that she’s alienating her….
I really, really relate to Imogen. All these cool people with their incredible lives, so confidently talking like it’s no big deal, and here she is, just… normal. No time to do cool things, her drive all but snuffed out by a decade of dedicating herself to work, nothing to talk about. This is some visceral, familiar pain.